Serendipity at the Scarsdale Library

In June 2015, I retired. Teaching third and fourth grades for 28 years in Scarsdale comprised my persona. I loved my work, never took sick days without raging sore throats requiring antibiotics. Mental health days - out of the question! I sought a new identity, something fun. What would I do in the days ahead?

While I stood at the Scarsdale Public Library’s circulation desk to return a book, a wall monitor flashed highlighted programs. “Writing Critique Groups A and B starting.” The slide changed. I awaited its return. “Deadline Aug.15.” How had I missed this?

The reference room librarian checked her list. “I’m sorry. The deadline’s passed.”

“Please. I know Barbara Josselsohn from the gym. When she’s on the treadmill, I’m on the arc. I’d love to be in her group. Such an opportunity!”

“Leave your phone and library card numbers. I’ll get back to you.”

Months later my cellphone rang. “There’s room in a January group. Still interested?”

That sought after spot summoned me to sit at a long oval table in the library’s northwest corner. From swivel chairs, I observed adult faces share narratives, felt emotion in voices sensing the real story behind the words. From 9:30-11:30 a.m. on alternate Fridays, I gave my opinions on selected articles related to our lives, learned about craft in a multitude of genres. I watched leaves in the expansive windows turn colors and wave in the wind with traffic headed past the duck pond’s fountain while critiquing. Everyone hung around tables along the entrance way or on the sidewalks. I was happy being a writer in our critique group.

One week I brought in a children’s manuscript, then another. Although I wrote to class prompts, I read picture books while others shared adult pieces. I had long dreamed about reading a book that I had written at the children’s room story time. Its librarians helped me find comps for stories I submitted to editors, agents, and publishing houses. I started to think my dream might become a reality. It felt as though I was in the middle of a life-changing experience.

Barbara announced a June Celebration of Writing in the same room where I had seen town meetings, art showings, lectures. Each of us would read 5-minute pieces commemorating the semester with food, drinks, and an intermission. Being a ham, I signed up immediately. Used to reading aloud to children, but not to adults, I practiced in front of the bathroom mirror.

Chairs in long rows and paintings on walls filled the Scott Room that Sunday. I read Our Giant Tree, a story about my beautiful but struggling deciduous. An audience of forty relatives, friends, and published authors locked eyes with mine while they listened to unfolding details, laughed at the humorous parts, felt the suspense, and enjoyed the satisfying ending. They respected the determination and effort required to bring pieces through the writing process and acknowledged the many hours spent revising and revising until the piece felt right.

Opportunities to publish came next in the Library’s Writing Center. “Anyone interested in writing up our festival and submitting it to the GoodBookCorner.com?” My hand shot up. “I’ll do it.” I revised, edited, submitted, and proofread like it really mattered. After seeing my article posted online, I became hooked on publishing adult pieces.

From the library prompts, the critique groups, and the Writing Institute at Sarah Lawrence classes immerged an adult novel about a young girl immigrating from eastern Europe in 1904, based on the teeniest snippet of my grandmother’s romantic journey. I felt as though I had experienced a life changing experience!

Who could have predicted the events that occurred as result of a visit to the local library to return a book? Thank you to the Friends of the Scarsdale Library for providing funding for this program, and thank you, Scarsdale Public Library, for including me in your Writers Center.